I'm not going down the rabbit hole...again

One day, after a rigorous schedule of classes, I decided that taking a nap would be quite lovely. And after some time of thinking about what I had to do tomorrow, I drifted off into a dream. I fell into the meadow where Alice herself had dreamt, at the entrance to Wonderland, or what I like to call, the land of pure rhetoric.
There the rabbit was, late as always, a vision from Parmenides himself. He ran by me, saying "I’m late, I’m late!" and ran down his rabbit hole. Well I saw that movie, and I was not crawling through that hole.
So I looked around in the bushes, and there were a pair of stairs. Most people would go, "Hmm...where do those stairs go?" But this was my dream, so I knew these stairs led to Rhetoricland. Although, the last time I went down stairs, I ended up in a Laundromat. I don’t know why I went there...I don’t think it ended well.
Down the stairs I went, the light around me slowly disappearing. At the bottom, there was enough light to see, but no direct light source. Where was no path, but I started walking in the direction away from the stairs. When I looked back toward the stairs, they seemed strangely off to the left...
"Yoohoo, over here." Oh great, the Cheshire cat. If anything, he must be related to a sphinx; riddles, riddles, riddles. "What is lost, and can’t be found, is too strict, quoted too quick, and makes no sound...?" I don’t know, your sanity?" I answered. "Hehe, silly girl. I never had sanity to begin with. The answer was logic." "Hmm...somehow that doesn’t make sense," I thought aloud. "It never does," he said, as he smiled back.
"Well, if that’s all, I suppose I should be going..." I told him. "Aren’t you going to ask me for directions?" he asked. "What good are directions in a place that is constantly changing? I’ll end up wherever I’m going to go. I suppose that is how one finds her way in this place. Besides, parts of this place seem familiar. I think I’ve been here before." "Well, I wouldn’t be surprised. Everybody ends up here at some point," the cat mused.
So I left him at the tree, and went on my way. I had a feeling I would run into him again. I just walked in a random direction, because picking a direction could mean walking in circles. As I walked I looked above me, and noticed some smoke in the distance. Within 5 minutes it was right behind a bunch of bushes. I waited a moment, wondering who it could be, and heard a male voice musing to himself.
I pushed through, and there he was, the butterfly. He didn’t seem to notice me, so I made a small cough and then asked, "Weren’t you a caterpillar before?" He let out a puff smoke. "Yes, I suppose I was, wasn’t I? But things change my dear." "She made you angry, didn’t she, sir?" "Hmmmm?" "Alice. She said something that made you quite angry." "Yes, if I recall correctly. She wasn’t understanding what I said. I was once seen as a calm, collective type. But nobody is really as they seem. It’s a shame really. I liked being a caterpillar, but there are advantages to the rapidness of flight."
"You’re right about that Mr. Butterfly. Sometimes I don’t know who I am myself. People tell me all the time what I should be, or what I could be...but never really who I am. If I can’t figure it out myself, I guess noone else can." "I believe you are on the right track, young lady. Perhaps you should wander around some more." "I will, thank you." I watched as he flew off into the air, without a goodbye. And then I wandered off into the woods again.
Most of this place was pretty silent, but I soon came upon a very noisy scene indeed. It sounded like....the steam escaping from teapots. The place of that nutty mad hatter. I think I could have a more reasonable conversation with the mouse. Or maybe it was a rat. Either way he spoke in complete poetry, and even that didn’t make sense. So I’m sure that will give you an idea about the hatter. I’m not going to go into great detail about our conversation. It was mostly switching places and yelling random things out when we felt like it. But the tea was very good, and the seats were quite comfy, even despite the many tramplings I endured.
I also remember them arguing over ridiculous things, like which type of tea had the best taste, and which teapot was most beautiful. Of course, no things as color or taste could ever come to a logical conclusion. It will always be an opinion. I think they knew that, but I also think they had fun in fighting over it. Either way, it was too much commotion for me, and I continued on.
It was about the time that I should be running into the queen. Sure enough, there were many guards around. I have to admit, she was the least rhetorical person in the place. But that didn’t give her any more sanity. At least most rhetoric has a sense of sides, something to base an argument on. But one moment you could be best friends, and the next "off with her head!"
Seeing as how I had met her before, the guards didn’t give me much trouble. Any intelligence they have must be based on luck. I’m surprised they did recognize me, because I doubt I looked the same as the last time. But there she was at the end of the long wall, in the same dress as before, with that simpering smile.
"Well dear, it seems you have come back yet again. Would you like to play some croquet?" "I’m sorry your majesty, but I seem to have lost track of the time. I dawdled in other places too long before finding my way here. Perhaps another time?" "Another time, another time, always another time!" she ranted. "If it wasn’t for the fact that I find you a fine croquet player I’d-" "I know, I know, ‘off with her head!’" I said, giggling. "You’ve got me down to a tee. A little courtesy never hurt anyone, now did it?"
"Now my only question is, how do I get back to the woods from here?" "Just take any path you like," she told me. "One is the same as the next in this place." "Thank you again, your majesty. I promise next time I will have more time for croquet." "I hope that is a promise my dear. It has been a while since I had such a game as when I played you last." "I promise," I answered, and followed the closest path back out of the castle.
Unfortunately, at this point, I always forget how to wake up. And since I didn’t know what to do, I was more lost than when I didn’t know where to go. "I’m back." Yes, again, it was the Cheshire cat. I remembered talking to him at other times before, and right after that, I would wake up. "So, striped cat. Can you remind me how to leave this place?" "Of course! It’s quite simple. You have to digest what you have learned." "Digest? But I already understand what happened." "No, no, silly. Digest, literally of course!"
"Oh....that’s right." It was then that I took a moment to look at my hands. And then I sniffed my right hand. It smelled faintly of cinnamon buns. I then licked my finger, and that’s exactly what it tasted like. I started eating my hand. "Mmm...I’m quite tasty," I commented. "You can make things seem like whatever you want here," the cat answered. "I believe last time you favored oatmeal honey bread with a touch of butter. My you humans are silly. Always thinking of bread when eating yourselves. I prefer grape jelly myself."
I continued to eat myself; my feet, legs, body, hands, arms, and finally all that was left was my lips, which I licked away with my tongue, until I had disappeared from the land of rhetoric, and woke up in my own bed. And you people think you have weird dreams. That makes me laugh.